


The Great Christmas Depression

by paint_it_gray



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Coming Out, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mentions lots of Emo Christmas songs, More Fluff, Otherwise it's harmless, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 02:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22003951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_it_gray/pseuds/paint_it_gray
Summary: James is spending Christmas alone this year.Alone with his dog and his overly dramatic Christmas playlist.Ben has different plans.
Relationships: Ben Chilwell/James Maddison
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	The Great Christmas Depression

**Author's Note:**

> This is a (belated) Christmas one shot with my favourite boyfriends - James & Ben.  
> It's just a little thing I wrote as a side-project, so don't take it too seriously.  
> Either way, I hope you guys enjoy & I'd love to hear some feedback!

James listens to Dallon Weekes‘ _Sickly Sweet Holidays_ and hums along under his breath as he leaves the training grounds. Most of his teammates have already left, even Ben’s car is gone. It doesn’t surprise him that he’s essentially the last one to leave.

It’s Christmas, after all.

The rest of the team are eager to go home, spend the little time off they get with their loved ones, and he can’t blame them. He imagines he’d be no different if he had something to look forward to or someone to come home to, but he doesn't. There's nothing to celebrate. His house isn’t even decorated. He doesn’t mind much but it still leaves an odd feeling in his stomach.

Christmas spirit is something that seems to have left him around this time last year.

He’ll be better off spending a quiet Christmas on his own.

He wishes one of the staff members crossing the parking lot a merry Christmas with a genuine big smile on his lips before he gets into his car.

As he leaves the parking lot, he listens to the voicemail Stonesy left him two hours ago.

“Hey, Mads. You’re probably still training but I wanted to call anyway.” _Driving home for Christmas_ plays faintly in the background and James smiles.

“I’m on my way to Liverpool right now, spend a couple of hours with my man before I have to be back in Manchester for training at 8. At eight! Can you believe? We don’t even have a game on Thursday!” John huffs out an annoyed breath and James makes a mental note not to tell him that he doesn’t have to show up for training at all tomorrow.

“Pep’s madness aside - we’re only playing Wolves after all, that’s an 'easy win' - I just wanted to say Merry Christmas. Very cheesy, I know, but it’s really sad, no, pathetic is the word I’m looking for, that you have to spend Christmas alone. Tell your family fuck off from me if you hear from them.”

James can’t decide if John insulted him or his extended family, or both.

“Anyway, have a good Christmas regardless and don’t let what happened last year get you down, you hear me?” he says with a new seriousness layered into his voice. “You can call me anytime if you get too lonely.”

He smiles. John is such a sweetheart when he wants to be and James is glad to have met him. But he won’t call him, of course. There’s no need to disturb the time he and his boyfriend have to themselves. A sappy Christmas film, Diego and the legendary Emo Christmas playlist - courtesy of John - are just as good to get his mind off Christmas.

“I still think you should’ve asked Chilly to spend Christmas with you, but, I know, he should spend Christmas with his family, not with you, blah blah blah. You know he’d say yes in a heartbeat if you asked. That boy is so gone on you.”

There it is. The Chilwell dilemma.

John has been certain that Ben is in love with him ever since the last international break. And James just isn’t. Even if he was in love with him, he isn’t sure he’d want him to be. Of course, they’re close and they spend a lot of time together. Something seems to fit naturally between them and James really likes him - just probably not in that way and he doesn’t want to ruin the wonderful friendship they have.

“I’m almost there, so I gotta go. I’ll see you soon. Don’t drown yourself in self-pity.”

John ends the voicemail without a word of goodbye but he’s gotten used to that.

And James hates how right he is.

He sighs and puts the infamous playlist back on to get his mind off of Chilly and his family.

Even though it’s both depressing and pathetic, he listens to _Alone This Christmas_ and Yellowcard’s rendition of _Christmas Lights_ on the whole drive home.

Being at home is more relaxing than he thought it’d be.

He passed an estimated 400 houses decked in ugly Christmas decorations on the way. In the end, it only reminded him of the ones in and around his parents’ house back in Coventry that his mum loves so much, leaving his mood somewhere between sour and melancholic.

But at home, without furiously blinking and singing decorations, he’s calm. He continues listening to the songs which include varying degrees of depression or anger. His favourite thus far is definitely _I Won’t Be Home For Christmas_ by blink-182. Very fitting.

An hour into sitting on the couch and petting Diego curled up next to him, he needs to move and do something. He jumps to his feet and turns up the music before he starts tidying up his living room.

“ _Don’t come home for Christmas. You’re the last thing I wanna see underneath the tree_ ,” he sings as he puts some blankets away. He almost starts laughing when he sees Diego on the sofa, watching him with perked up ears and his head tilted to the side. “ _Merry Christmas, I could care less_.”

At first, it’s just his foot tapping the rhythm against the floor and humming along to a few melodies, but before he knows it, he’s dancing and jumping around the living room, singing along to all the songs he knows and using his remote as a microphone while Diego excitedly jumps around his feet.

Then he suddenly collides with something. Someone. Who grabs his arms to steady him as he staggers backwards.

Slowly, he lifts his head only to see Ben grinning down at him.

He tries his best to ignore the blush flushing his cheeks. Of all the days, Ben had to choose today to remember he owns a spare key.

He clears his throat and sets down the remote. “Uhm… What are you doing in my house?”

“Bought a ticket to James Maddison’s rendition of ‘The Great Christmas Depression’. Couldn’t miss it,” he says.

James rolls his eyes. “Unfortunately, this is a closed rehearsal.”

Ben’s grin spreads even wider. “Don’t let me stop you.”

James shakes his head with a small huff and tears himself away from Ben’s touch that leaves an odd tingling sensation beneath his skin. He almost reaches out to brush along the spot but catches himself at the last second.

“Seriously, shouldn’t you be on your way to Milton Keynes or something?”

“I guess,” Ben says and scratches the back of his head. “But I heard you were spending Christmas alone and I couldn’t have that. So here I am.”

“You know that’s stupid, right?”

“Why?”

“Maybe because you see me in training every single day and not your family?”

Ben crouches down to pet Diego who’s waddling around his legs. “I just didn’t want you to spend Christmas alone. Is that a crime?”

He looks up to him and smiles.

James can feel his defences crumbling and averts his eyes. “No?”

“Why does that sound like a question?” Ben laughs.

“I don’t know?” He throws his hands up into the air and turns on his heel. “Just let me get over my surprise and embarrassment in peace.”

“I thought you looked very cute jumping around your living room.”

James flops down onto the couch and groans. “That was supposed to be private!”

He can hear Ben chuckling to himself quietly but he does not reply.

His gaze is directed at the ceiling.

He holds his breath for a long moment before he exhales.

It doesn’t make any sense to him. Why would Ben rather spend his Christmas with him than with his family? He doesn’t want to assume anything, of course. Ben doesn’t know why he’s not going home for Christmas either. Some things, they don’t talk about.

Suddenly, James wonders if he missed something important he should have noticed.

“You didn’t even put up a Christmas tree?”

James lifts his head and glances at Ben, then at the empty spot where a tree could’ve been. He thinks it looks better in his backyard, still wrapped up and out of his sight. He can’t even remember why he bought it in the first place.

“In theory, I have one,” he says, “but I’m not feeling the spirit this year.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve noticed.” Ben huffs out a breath. “You got that sad look in your eyes when you said Merry Christmas to the other lads.”

“I don’t get a sad look in my eyes!” he complains. “What kind of-”

“Shush.”

Ben rises back to his feet and walks over to the couch. James can hear his quiet footsteps on the floor. He only ever does that when he thinks something is wrong. James isn’t sure if he’s right or not.

“Make some room, will you?”

James lifts his upper body long enough for Ben to sit down and then rests his head in his lap. They’ve done this a million times or more, but this time feels different. It’s not that Ben runs his fingers through his hair or that he doesn’t complain about him messing up his hair. It’s not that his eyes fall shut on autopilot or the music in the background. Something else is off.

“Mind telling me what ruined Christmas for you?”

The stereo plays Mayday Parade’s I’m With You. He’s pretty sure Ben turned down the volume.

“I came out to my family last Christmas. My parents are fine with it, mostly, but the extended family is… not thrilled and I don’t want to ruin everyone’s Christmas by just being there, you know? That way they can just pretend I’m normal, or something.”

The problem with James is, he doesn’t think before he speaks. Not when it’s just Ben listening.

When Ben’s fingers suddenly freeze, he realizes and his blood runs cold.

This wasn’t how Ben was supposed to find out. They’ve been friends for forever and James has been keeping this a secret for even longer. He had this whole idea in his head; how he’d tell him and how he’d react, everything.

And now he ruined it because he can’t use his damn brain before he talks.

He takes a shaky breath.

The anxiety feels like a punch to the stomach and his muscles tense up.

“Wait, you’re…?”

“Bi,” he says. There’s no use denying it now.

After a brief moment of silence, Ben starts threading his fingers through his hair again and says: “Oh. Okay.”

James bites his lip. He still doesn’t dare to open his eyes. “What does that mean?”

Ben lets out a long sigh. “Well, if you thought I’d hate you or something, you’d be an idiot. I’m just surprised you never said anything.”

But he doesn’t have an answer to that. Never had one, will never have one. The easiest version is that he’s terrified - but that isn’t the truth either. At least not all of it.

“I love you, Mads. No matter what. You know that, right?”

He nods his head.

I love you too, he thinks and but he can’t get any words past his lips at this moment, too overwhelmed by the feelings suddenly crashing into his chest. He sits up and throws himself into Ben’s waiting arms instead, burying his face in the crook of his neck. It’s a lame attempt to communicate his emotions and somehow get everything he cannot say across to Ben.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

When he dares to look, Ben smiles at him and he smiles back.

“How about you start whatever you planned for dinner and I put up the tree?” Ben asks him.

James blinks, taken aback for a moment. “I- Don’t you-?”

“I can ask my questions later, can’t I?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah.”

“Okay then. Sounds like a deal?”

He smiles. “Deal.”

“Great.” Ben grins and pokes at his side. “Now get off me, you goddamn koala.”

It’s nice to have some peace and quiet to himself as he works around the kitchen while Ben is putting up the tree. It gives him a chance to sort his thoughts and feelings out while his playlist has switched to Neck Deep’s _December_. 

He can’t tell Ben how endlessly much his reaction means to him.

When he thinks back to last year, a cool shiver runs down his spine. He remembers the family gathered around the Christmas tree, opening and exchanging gifts. He can’t recall who made the comment, about a future girlfriend or wife, or whatever it was, and he foolishly added that it could also be a boyfriend. The memory of the following silence still hurts, even a whole year later.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts and turns his focus back to the vegetables on the stove. He starts humming along to the first lines of _Thank God It's Christmas_.

"Madders! Come look at the tree!"

He almost flinches at Ben's excited yell.

"Way to give me a heart attack," he mutters under his breath as he walks into the living room.

Ben is standing next to the tree like a proud mother and grinning.

James' gaze lingers on him only for the blink of an eye before he turns his attention towards the tree. It decorated with fairy lights and a few ornaments, both blue and silver. He wonders if it's a subtle nod to their club but he doesn't ask. On top, there is a little star.

When he takes it all in, he has to admit it does look pretty.

"You did a decent job," he says, teasing, "It doesn't look horrible."

"Better than you, it sure does," Ben retorts.

"Mind who's cooking your dinner." He chuckles as he turns around. "But I like it."

And he knows he says it just loud enough for Ben to hear.

When he returns to his curry on the stove, he hears Ben calling his mother. He doesn't pay much attention to the conversation - it's none of his business - but the background noise is strangely comforting. It has something awfully domestic to it. He pushes the thought away and tries to ignore it but it keeps gnawing at the back of his head.

“James! Come say hi!”

He takes a deep breath and turns around, going back to the living room. He crouches down behind the sofa and rests his arms and his chin on the backrest.

Ironically, the stereo plays _Christmas By The Phone_.

“Hi!” He waves into the camera and smiles at Ben’s mum on the screen. “Sorry for keeping him away from you but I had no say in it.”

Ben’s mother shakes her head and smiles. “Oh, it’s okay, my dear. I’m glad you two are spending your Christmas together.”

He finds the phrasing ‘your Christmas’ a bit odd but when he glances at Ben, he sees him smiling at the camera like nothing is out of the ordinary. Maybe it’s just his imagination playing tricks on him. As he looks back to Ben’s mum, her gaze is dancing between the two of them with a soft smile on her lips.

“I’ll admit I’m glad to have him here but I still feel a little guilty.” He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his head.

“Nonsense! He’ll come home for New Year’s.”

“Oh, will I?” Ben interrupts and laughs. “Good to know.”

James snorts. It reminds him of his grandma. She was just the same when it came to making plans.

“Of course,” his mother says, “We agreed on that months ago.”

Ben chuckles but he doesn’t continue arguing with her.

“Well, have a lovely Christmas, Mrs Chilwell and say hi to the family for me. I’m sorry but I have to make sure my curry doesn’t burn.”

“We’re having curry?” Ben asks with his eyes shining with excitement but James ignores him in favour of his mother saying goodbye to him.

“Merry Christmas to you too, James. Have a nice evening.”

As he walks away and is almost back by the stove, he faintly hears her telling Ben “Bring him along next time, will you?”

And Ben - he can feel his glance on his back - very softly answers: “Maybe I will.”

He has no idea what to make of that.

Dinner is uneventful. He sets two bowls of curry with rice onto the table and before he's properly seated, Ben is taking tons of pictures of his ‘Christmas Curry’ to post on Instagram later.

After that, he doesn't speak much, too busy shovelling as much curry as possible into his mouth as the stereo plays _Santa Stole My Girlfriend_ and _Don’t Shoot Me Santa_.

"It's like you knew I was coming," he says, happily munching on his food, "This curry is brilliant by the way."

James smiles faintly.

Maybe he was secretly hoping.

Later, they're sitting on the floor in front of the couch together. Ben opened a bottle of champagne and poured them both a small glass before putting his finger to his lips.

Spotify went through his playlist twice by now. Ben wasn't amused by _Making Christmas_ or _This Christmas (I'll burn it to the ground)_. Right now, it’s playing _Fool’s Holiday_ , a song Ben has somewhat found common ground with.

“Madders?”

“Hm?”

“When did you know you were bi?”

He sits up a little straighter and shrugs. “A couple of years ago. When I was seventeen or eighteen, maybe? Had a crush on a friend of mine at the time.”

“Wow.” Ben’s gaze trails off far into the distance before he takes a sip of his champagne.

James stares at him and waits. He was ready for the questions, no doubt. He spent all evening being worried about it but now that it’s Ben asking, he finds the answers come easy to him. It’s not that he can’t lie to him but something about Ben makes it so easy to be honest with him.

“Is that why you’re so supportive of the Rainbow Laces campaign?”

“Partly,” he answers, “But I’d support any other campaign that tackles intolerance or hate in football. Has no place in the world, that.”

Ben nods in agreement. He seems a little on edge, phrases cut short and thoughts off somewhere far away. But he’ll say something if there’s anything wrong, he tells himself. Maybe it’s just a question he wants to ask that he’s anxious about.

“J, another question,” he says then and turns to him, eyes finding his. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Okay.”

Ben hesitates another moment and stares down at his feet. “What happened with your family last year?”

If he pretended he didn’t wait for that question, he’d be lying.

Still, he empties his glass with a long swig and takes a deep breath before he feels ready to begin telling that story.

“I don’t know what sparked the conversation that happened, to be honest, I just remember that we were all sitting around the living room, exchanging gifts and just enjoying our time together. My parents and my grandpa were there, of course, and my aunts and uncles, cousins and such. We were about 10 to 15 people and it was great. I love coming home for Christmas.

“And then someone made that comment about a future girlfriend or wife I would someday bring along and I added that it could also be a boyfriend, thinking people would be okay with that in the 21st century. And I didn’t think before speaking, so…”

Ben huffs out an amused breath, probably remembering his coming out to him prior.

“After I said that, the room went quiet all of a sudden. Everyone was looking at me like something was wrong with me and I didn’t know what to do. So I left.”

He bows his head and lets the pictures pass, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue but nothing more. He’s thought about it so many times, got his heart broken so much - one day, he has to be over it. Maybe today can be that day.

“I was running around the city late at night, no idea where I should go or what I should do but then my grandpa came and picked me up, took me back to Leicester. Which was honestly what I needed. Get some distance, clear my head. I cried a lot that night, to be honest.”

He can feel Ben staring at him; he can picture the sad and sympathetic expression in his eyes and he can’t bring himself to lift his gaze off the ground. He pulls on a loose thread on his sock instead until it rips apart under the pressure.

“My parents came up here to apologize a couple of days later. It took them a while to come around but they realized their mistake and told me they loved me, no matter if I liked boys or girls or both. They told me I’d always be their son and they would always be proud of me. I’ve forgiven them since but it’s hard to forget about it. I still haven’t spoken to most of the family members present last Christmas to this day.”

Ben grants him a few moments of silence to catch his breath. He is glad for it, closes his eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths.

“James.” Ben’s voice sounds hoarse and a little choked up. “I’m sorry that happened. I shouldn’t have asked.”

He wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls his close. James almost falls into his side and rest his head on his shoulder as he stares ahead onto a pitch-black TV screen.

“It’s okay.” He shakes his head a little. “I’m glad I finally told someone. Feels… better, somehow.”

It’s not the full truth. ‘Better somehow’ doesn’t put a name to the hurricane of emotions inside his chest. One part of him is exhausted and tired, another one is terrified, the next one just relieved and content. It doesn’t have a name, save for chaos, but that’s okay too.

“I still wish you would’ve told me sooner but it’s okay that you didn’t. That’s your call to make.” Ben rests his head on James’ and runs his thumb over his shoulder in ever-changing shapes.

James feels like he should cry. But leaning against Ben’s shoulder and relishing in the quiet that now surrounds them, he feels calm and… okay, no matter how drained he is. Swinging along is a hint of melancholy like a soft piano in the background, fading away.

“Thanks, Ben,” he says belatedly but he means more than just this one thing.

He means thanks for being accepting and understanding.

Thanks for being my friend and being there for me.

Thank you for spending Christmas with me.

The fact that his playlist switches to _Please Don’t Jump (It’s Christmas)_ at that exact moment kind of ruins the mood and at the same time doesn’t but he’s going to do hell and skip it.

“Seems like Christmas is supposed to be depressing for me.”

Ben snorts. “Am I depressing?”

“A little,” James shoots back and smirks.

“Wow, love you too,” Ben replies in a flat tone.

James starts chuckling which turns into full-blown laughter. He’s leaning back against the couch; his body is shaking with his laughs and his stomach starts hurting. He doesn’t even know or care what makes this moment so comical, he just enjoys feeling happy.

“What’s so funny?”

He shrugs and stops laughing just long enough to say “No idea.” before he bursts out into another fit of laughter, a mixture of giggles and gasping for air and heartful laughs.

“J, I have to tell you something.”

At the serious tone of Ben’s voice, he quickly sobers up. He lifts his head off the couch and watches Ben while the corners of his mouth still twitch with suppressed cheerfulness.

“What?” he asks between little amused huffs and short chuckles.

Ben’s gaze flickers from his eyes to his chest, to his lips, to his eyes. He opens his mouth, the words already on his tongue before he closes it again and only a choked off sound comes out. He glances at his eyes briefly once more before he casts his eyes down and takes a deep breath.

“God, I hope I don’t got this wrong,” he breathes out.

Before he knows what’s happening, Ben leans over and kisses him.

James freezes.

Until he realizes that his kiss is more like he’s asking another question, voice soft and quiet and eyes shining in the dim light. His lips are just asking for something James has never dared to think about. Only this time he has a proper answer, he finds.

His eyes fall shut and a gentle sigh escapes him as Ben’s fingers brush along his cheek, careful like he’s made of glass, like he’s precious. He sinks into the kiss that’s so soft and so sweet and so innocent, that no matter how many people he’s loved and fallen for, he swears no one has ever kissed him before.

When Ben pulls away, James keeps his eyes shut. He thinks he wouldn’t be able to open them if he tried. So he feels the ghost of a touch of Ben’s thumb brushing against his lower lip which sends shivers down his spine. He leans their foreheads together and James allows himself to just breathe for another minute or so.

It feels like hours come to pass them by without any impact.

They still sit in silence.

Then, James' eyes flutter open and he blinks, once, twice before he leans back so he can look Ben in the eyes.

“Wow, I-” He clears his throat but can’t find the words to phrase the answer of his kiss.

Instead, he finds Ben’s hand and tangles their fingers up together, not quite like their holding hands but not quite something else either. And while he’s searching for the words to accompany his feelings, he leans forward and steals another kiss from Ben.

That second kiss feels so much like coming home that he can’t believe he never realized how Ben takes that chaos from his chest and puts it into his stomach. That Ben just has begun to feel like home to him, after all the travelling, the shared hotels rooms and seeing him every day for almost one and a half years now.

And his lips still taste like champagne and curry but he doesn’t really mind.

When he pulls away this time, it takes him less time to catch his breath and sorts his thoughts into a picture that makes sense and he asks: “So how long have you kept this a secret?”

Ben laughs breathlessly and reaches for his hand again. “Since July maybe?”

“Oh, since July maybe? You know, I wish you would’ve told me sooner but it’s okay that you didn’t,” he says, mockingly mimicking Ben’s tone from earlier.

“Shut up.” Ben laughs and ruffles his hair.

He has long stopped about complaining when it comes to that; he just ducks and smiles when Ben can’t see.

“So, is this okay?” Ben asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

James watches him for a moment, sees the lights of the Christmas tree mirrored in his eyes and the unsure smile on his lips.

“This?” He leans against him and presses a quick kiss to his shoulder. “This is okay.”

The end up curled up on the couch together, legs tangled and James’ head on Ben’s chest. The TV is showing a rerun of some German historical period drama but it’s muted. They’re listening to the last song of his playlist. Sam Smith’s take on _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_. He sings along under his breath while Ben runs his fingers through his hair and James thinks he’s never had a happier Christmas Eve than this.

“Hey, James, look.” Ben points to the clock where the time has slowly crept past midnight.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

He smiles and closes his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Ben.”

If he adds _All I Want For Christmas Is You_ to his playlist, no one needs to know.


End file.
